


Broken Ties

by Josey (cestus), junko



Series: Shattered Souls [12]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-11
Updated: 2012-12-11
Packaged: 2017-11-20 21:39:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/589921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cestus/pseuds/Josey, https://archiveofourown.org/users/junko/pseuds/junko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Renji has defeated his inner hollow, but there are still a lot of broken pieces to mend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Broken Ties

**Author's Note:**

> This is a canon divergence that takes place after the Aizen’s betrayal and before the Bount Arc.

It was sometime later that Renji felt the effects of the sleep spell finally wear off. He’d left his inner landscape to drift in and out of dreams. The worst one had involved returning to the Sixth Division to stand in front of the captain. Byakuya had taken one look at him and sniffed: “Broken. Dismissed.”

The captain’s deep voice still echoed in Renji’s inner ear as he cautiously cracked open one eye. He was lying on his futon. Someone had removed his clothes and given him a pillow for his aching head. From the sounds and smells drifting under the door, people were awake somewhere nearby making breakfast. The pungent, almost cheese-like scent of nattō made Renji’s stomach growl. He started to lift himself up and discovered a world of pain. With a groan, he flopped back down.

“Perhaps you shouldn’t consider trying to get up just yet, Abarai-fukutaichō,” came a voice from the shadows.

Urahara.

“You been sitting there this whole time ogling me in my sleep, you pervert?” Renji’s tone was harsher than he’d intended. After all, he knew what it was like to wait for someone to recover. And, as much as he wanted to blame Urahara for everything that had happened, he couldn’t. Zabimaru had misinterpreted Kurotsuchi’s deviousness, and Renji still refused to regret anything he’d done for his zanpakutō’s sake.

And so far, at least, he didn’t feel like killing anyone.

#

"And what a pleasure-" Kisuke began before cutting himself off with a sharp shake of his head and a curt, quiet, “No.” Fun as it was to tease Abarai, now was not the time. Instead he said, "I thought it wise that someone kept watch in case your friend put in another appearance." He tapped his finger to his temple to indicate Abarai's hollow. From the way Abarai's eyes darkened and flicked to the side, he knew what Kisuke was talking about. And the fact that he hadn't attacked Kisuke on sight the second he'd woken up suggested this next part might go passably, as well.

The past forty-eight hours had been among the longest of Kisuke's existence and had involved a depth of soul-searching he’d not believed possible. As he watched Abarai sleep, Kisuke had gone back over all the data, all the evidence, all his theory building to see if there was something he’d missed. Some vital clue that would have told him what the consequences of the experiment would be, and the answer, no matter how hard he looked nor how many times he went over it, was the same. No. Without the critical information from Shinji, he'd had no way of knowing what the result would be. 

Even so, that result had been his fault, and along with it, Abarai’s extremely close call. And there had been no reason behind the experiment beyond Abarai's casual enquiry and Kisuke's own ambition. 

"I also stayed because I owe you an apology," he said. Hat off and held to his chest, he bowed as deeply as he had before Ichigo those few weeks ago when the truth of his last mistake had been revealed, and continued, "Although in my defence, none of my data indicated that separating you from Zabimaru would result in hollowfication. Even so, due to my ill-considered actions, you were brought dangerously close to a state which would have left us no choice but to terminate you and for that I do apologise most sincerely."

"Huh," Abarai said and then with a considering edge to his voice added, "How sincerely?"

Kisuke peered suspiciously at him through his bangs. Was that an evil gleam in the fukutaichō's eye? "Pretty sincerely," he said. "Why do you ask?"

"Enough get the big guy off my back for the rest of my time here? No more sweeping the floors and taking out the trash."

That was all he wanted? Kisuke sat back and studied the shinigami in front of him, assessing and reassessing. It was easy to dismiss Abarai as dumb; the wild red hair, tattoos and language all pointed in that direction. He was certainly blunt and so down to earth it was surprising his waraji didn't have roots, but he wasn't stupid. He was, after all, a fukutaichō and despite Kisuke's low opinion of the Gotei Thirteen, you didn't get a lieutenant's job if you weren't bright. Unless you had money or family behind you, of course, but Abarai had neither of those to recommend him.

So why was he willing to settle for so little? He effectively had Kisuke over a barrel and had to realise that. The right words in the right ears and an enthusiastic Soifon would be here with enough cuffs and kido to take down even Kisuke. So the fact that Abarai was willing to settle meant there was more to this than him simply accepting Kisuke's apology. Was there perhaps an acknowledgement of some scrap of culpability hidden away in there ? 

Kisuke filed the thought away, alongside his long term plans for Ichigo. You never knew a delicately balanced scale could be tipped in the right direction by lingering guilt or a queasy conscience.

Anyway, in the short-term what it came down to was, Abarai was willing to refrain from pursuing the matter so long as Kisuke called off the dogs he'd set on him in the first place. There was a no-loss symmetry to the bargain that was deeply satisfying to a businessman like himself. 

Kisuke replaced his hat, tipping the brim down enough to hide his eyes and said, "I'm sure some arrangement can be made to transfer your obligations to some other willing volunteer."

"Sounds good," Abarai replied, and then apparently dismissing the whole affair, shot a look at the door and said, "So is that breakfast I can smell?"

Tessai chose that moment to deliver the fukutaichō's tray and Kisuke took his leave, eager for a break and the opportunity to get some food for himself. 

When he returned just over an hour later and slid the door ajar, he discovered Abarai sat on his futon. He'd tied his hair up again and was leaning back against the wall with his tank top hiked up under his armpits and his shorts pushed down well below his navel. As Kisuke watched, Abarai's fingertips began describing intricate patterns over his very finely muscled abdomen, the effect only somewhat ruined by the way his tongue was stuck out the corner of his mouth in concentration. 

Kisuke kept the door open the merest crack and unrepentantly enjoyed the show. It was almost better without Zabimaru in the way. All those tattoos.

_He really does have excellent definition,_ Benihime commented, her ghostly fingers running a line down Kisuke's spine. 

He shuddered and the door trembled under his hand. _He does indeed, however I'll thank you not to do that, it's most distracting and it may draw his attention._ And that was the last thing he wanted. A free show was a free show, after all.

_I am almost entirely certain that you are the furthest thing from his mind,_ Benihime replied dryly. _He seems far more concerned about a lingering hole._

The scene in front of Kisuke took on an entirely different cast. Fingers which he had assumed were caressing, became fingertips obsessively exploring every millimetre of skin, and erotic tension in Abarai's neck and shoulders became stress and worry. _I think you may be right,_ Kisuke said. It was chilling actually, when seen in that light. How conscious had Abarai been of his imminent transformation? Kisuke had rather hoped it had come on him unawares. This performance suggested otherwise. 

In fact it was quite disturbing. Not able to stand it any longer, Kisuke pushed aside the door and strode in. Three steps took him to Abarai's side where he knelt and placed a hand on his arm. "There is no hole," he said, keeping his voice even. "I promise, Abarai-fukutaichō. It's gone." Was that a flinch at the mention of his rank? Kisuke filed the observation away and kept talking. "I checked thoroughly as I was dressing you for bed."

“Did you?” Renji said with a wicked sort of smile. Pushing down the tank top, he rubbed his stomach. “I guess Zabimaru really was the missing piece.” 

Kisuke sat back on his heels and waited for Abarai to elucidate, though apparently the fukutaichō was expecting something from him. To be fair Kisuke had much he could say, though most of it was a little on the touchy side unless really required.

Finally, Abarai cleared his throat. “So... I’m broken now, right?”

Ah. So that was it. Kisuke averted his eyes. How did you tell someone that their soul was irretrievably shattered? “Yes, I suppose you are,” he said. “But it doesn’t have to be the end. Hirako-san has promised to help you control your inner hollow and then you...” Would he be able to go back? Was telling him that getting his hopes up unfairly? “It may be possible for you to go home.”

“Home.” Abarai rubbed the back of his neck as if considering the word. “Yeah, thing is, I’m not sure what place there is for me, if... well. This friend of yours. You and him, you’re not exactly official any more, right?”

Good question. “Well no,” Kisuke replied, “though perhaps not as unofficial as you might fear. And you aren’t the only one who will be training with him.” He hadn’t planned on broadcasting Ichigo’s state to the world at large but since Abarai would be training with him anyway there seemed precious little point in holding back. “Also, please remember that Aizen is not an enemy to be underestimated, and Yamamoto-sōtaichō knows that. Given the circumstances, I think he may well be prepared to overlook certain... oddities amongst his allies.”

“Oddities. That’s... super.” Abarai buried his face in his hands for a moment, and then seemed to let something go with a sigh. When he lifted his gaze again, he held Kisuke’s eyes for a long, steady moment. “I’m ground support now, got it. You’re in charge here, right?”

Now there was a question. Entire worlds could hang upon his answer. Perhaps for now it would be better to keep it simple, after all Abarai _had_ specified here. “I am.” 

“All right then, let’s get training. I don’t want that asshole Stray Dog showing up unannounced.”

Stray Dog, hm? Kisuke wasn’t sure he wanted to know any more than that. “Hirako-san is expecting you later today. Kurosaki-san still has school and, from what I understand, you and he will be training together.” Shinji had mentioned something about it saving him from having to make so much effort though Kisuke took the statement with a pinch of salt. He would do whatever he had to in order to get the two new Vizard functioning, Hirako was that kind of man. 

Abarai seemed to be listening intently from the frown deepening between his brows. “Wait,” he said as if a thought just occurred to him. “Kurosaki and I will be training together? Won’t I just kill Ichigo in my...uh, new form?”

Had he said bright? Kisuke took it all back. Lifting his hat just slightly, he levelled a look at Abarai. 

And watched as the light dawned behind Abarai’s eyes. “Oh. Oh! Holy crap, him too? What, did you break all the toys in your box?”

That was a little unfair. Kisuke may have pouted slightly. “Not intentionally,” he protested. “It was simply that Kurosaki-san’s soul turned out to be a touch more friable than I expected when I severed his soul chain.” He smiled brightly. “Though it worked out perfectly in the long run. From what Kurosaki-san tells me, he would have been quite unable to beat your captain without it.”

The fukutaichō seemed to be sputtering. “You.. what? He...what? Ichigo beat my captain how?”

Small words, that was the ticket. "After you and your dear captain left Ichigo for dead, I was the one who had to put him back together again. The boy was, quite frankly, a mess. He was however absolutely determined to rescue Rukia, whom he perceived as having been kidnapped by enemy forces.” And if Kisuke had encouraged that assumption, that was for him to know and no one else. “Since the Soul Reaper powers he had acquired from Rukia were gone, we had no choice but to awaken his own. In order to do that, his soul chain had to be severed again-” 

“So you killed him. That’s what you’re saying, right?”

“Technically speaking, I suppose you could call it that.” And possibly ethically speaking as well. “However, I would like to point out that Kurosaki-san is, even as we speak, alive and well and in school. I simply helped him discover his... less living side, as it were.”

Abarai snorted at that and Kisuke took it as a sign to continue. “The hollow turned up somewhat unexpectedly and then, equally unexpectedly, hung around, which in the event turned out to be most propitious when he was faced with Bya-kun. Something of a game changing move, is the way Kurosaki-kun described it.” Though it had taken a lot of persuasion to get the truth out of him. It had helped that Shinji had joined in, demanding details for training purposes. Kisuke was fairly certain he’d just enjoyed hearing about Byakuya getting his backside kicked. It had certainly tickled Kisuke.

“Bya-kun? Wow. Please tell me you never dated my captain.”

If he'd had the time to find his fan, Kisuke would have fluttered it. As it was, he dragged his hat off his head and covered his face with that instead. Dating Byakuya. What a terrifying thought. “Ah, Abarai-fukutaichō,” he said, once he’d regained his composure, “I think you’ve somewhat misconstrued the relationship between myself and your captain. You see, when I left Soul Society, he was still at the age where playing tag with pretty girls was something to be avoided.” He reseated his hat with grim determination. “And though I’d be the first to admit that I have a mildly perverse side, I do try to draw the line appropriately.”

“Yeah, okay, sure,” Abarai said sounding somewhat unconvinced. The fukutaichō shifted on the futon, his hands between his knees. His fingers tapped together nervously. Finally he let out another long sigh. “So, how much about this stuff do you know? Like will I still be able to go bankai like this or what?”

Perceptive question. “Kurosaki-san certainly can, though at the moment he’s concerned it will allow his passenger free rein. Hirako-san agreed that it’s probably best to refrain for now, and so I would assume that the same rule would apply to you.” Unless of course the close call had done something untoward to his bond with Zabimaru. “I presume all is as it was.... inside?”

“What do you mean? Inside what? You said I had no hole.”

Perhaps dolt or imbecile was more accurate. Kisuke waved a hand in a gesture of general frustration. “Your inner world. Your relationship with your zanpakutō. Has Zabimaru settled back into its natural place?”

Abarai sat silently for a long time, apparently pondering deeply from the look of concentration on his face. Kisuke was mildly hopeful that they might get somewhere. His hope proved futile when Abarai finally shook his head and said, “No idea. I have no clue what you’re even talking about.”

“You did attend Academy, didn’t you?” Kisuke asked, for a brief second actually concerned that perhaps the fukutaichō hadn’t. Natural shinigami did crop up from time to time, such as the current captain of the eleventh or so rumour had it, though Abarai had mentioned his studies before and, of course, he’d been a classmate of Rukia’s. That then raised the question, “What in seven hells are they teaching there? Knitting?” 

Abarai shrugged. “Kira taught me to darn my socks. Does that count?”

It was all Kisuke could do not to throw his hat at the boy. “Abarai-fukutaichō,” he said, grasping for calm. “When you were pursuing shikai, you would have encountered the spirit form of your zanpakutō within yourself. That place, whatever form it may have taken, is the part of you where your reiryoku and Zabimaru’s reiryoku mingles. That is your inner world. Tell me, have you and Zabimaru reintegrated in such a way that your inner world is again stable?”

“I think so,” Abarai said, though he didn’t sound terribly convinced. “Thing is, I don’t go there a whole lot. Don’t usually need to. Zabimaru is here,” he said, patting that trim stomach again. “But, if you mean that hot springs place--I guess it’s all fixed up again, except for the new interloper hiding in the hills.”

“A hot springs,” Kisuke repeated, “How nice.” Actually it did sound quite pleasant. It was just the hearing about it that was disconcerting. Far too private and intrusive. Perhaps this was why no one bothered to mention it at Academy? Maybe it was like sex; something you were supposed to learn about behind the kidō stands. That seemed a little foolish to Kisuke. “Well so long as you’re both happy there, that’s all that matters. And as far as bankai is concerned, if your reiryoku is being shared again, then there is no reason why you shouldn’t be able to call it out. After all it is a joint effort, the sum being greater than the parts and such.” Abarai was looking deeply confused. Kisuke gave up while he was ahead. 

He climbed slowly to his feet and stood for a moment, looking down at Abarai, then shook his head. “Perhaps Hirako-san will be able to explain things better.” He doubted it. If Kisuke remembered rightly, Shinji’s method of instruction tended to be heavy on the blade and light on words. “In any case, he is expecting you by five this afternoon.” He smirked. “I believe Zabimaru knows the place. Give him my regards when you see him.”

“Sure thing, Taicho.”


End file.
